Leonards head hurt.
His mind was all over the place, images and words he had never heard or seen before rushing into his head. The information was overloading, it rushed in like a bright blue light, consuming everything in its wake.
“TiS” “sHp” “OrIon” “EtsETa” “CAe”
Everything rushed in all at once, none of it making sense, images of stars, of planets, of cities, of people. Faces he had never once seen, battles he had never heard of, cities crumbling, planets burning, the information overload made him feel like his head was going to burst.
A life flashed before his eyes, familiar yet foreign, close yet distant. A life not too dissimilar, not completely unknown, a face he could see, he knew that face, but he couldn’t tell where from. Dark black hair, sharp blue eyes, it seemed so natural, yet not so. It was older and more grizzled then he recalled.
It carried a stronger bearing, much stronger, with a face that carried itself with pride. Unlike the unsure mess he expected to see. It was looking into a mirror, though he didn't know why, the constant information coursing into his head made him forget on what side of the mirror he was supposed to be, if it was even him.
*Beep*
A single sound cut through the noise, ringing throughout his head, painfully loud yet calming the constant stream of information within.
*Beep*
It sounded again, forcefully washing away the head pounding noise, replacing it with another loud, yet more grounded sound.
*Beep*
His eyes fluttered, bright lights assaulting his vision, causing him to quickly slam them back shut again.
A white robed doctor at his side noticed his rousing.
“Sir,” he spoke into a comm unit on his wrist. “He’s waking up.”
The doctor wasn't speaking particularly loud, but to Leonard it burned his ears, strangely over sensitive to stimulus.
Leo slowly adjusted, eyes opening and inspecting the room around him. It was sterile and white, various instruments surrounded his bed, a few hooked into his body, constantly pumping in and out substances that he didn't understand.
His head still pounded, whatever foreign memories that were implanted in his head slowly slipping away. He felt like they were important, very important. The life that seemed so familiar was fading from his mind. He wanted desperately to write every thought down, but he could hardly move his body.
The doctor had already vanished, after reporting and making sure he wouldn’t die he left to seemingly fulfil other duties. There was a window in his room, a rectangular thing that pictured a myriad of bright blue lights racing by. A staple sight of faster than light travel.
Just as Leo was beginning to guess where he wound up the door to his room open, and in marched a strikingly well dressed man, his dress uniform freshly pressed. He ran a hand through his blonde hair, taking in Leonards sorry state.
“I have to say Mr. Vallum, I did not expect that you’d live.” He pulled a small hand held torch from his jacket, stepping in close and shining it in his eyes. Leo tried to pull back but the man's hand firmly held the back of his head. “If that is Mr. Vallum in there. With these things we can never be sure.”
He looked around in his eyes a moment more before becoming satisfied, flicking the torch out and taking a seat next to his bed.
“I have to say, you're really quite resilient Mr. Vallum.” He smiled, leaning back in his chair. “To have the full, undiluted power of a Swarm Lord core forced into your head would make even the strongest man go mad.”
“I don't understand.” Leonard was confused, this whole situation was completely out of the ordinary. “What's going on? Where am I? Where is my squad!?”
“One at a time Mr. Vallum” the man smiled. “We have some time before our destination so we are really in no rush.”
“Destination?” Leonard was puzzled. “Where are we now?”
“Ah, where are my manors?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a shining silver and gold badge. “You can call me Agent Smith, and on behalf of Bulwark I welcome you aboard the S.S Trinity.”
Leonards mind raced. Bulwark? Trinity? None of these names were simple. The Military Intelligence Agency, Bulwark, was one of the most powerful factions in the country. And Trinity was a last generation military battleship, an uncontested apex predator of space. Battleships carried enough firepower to glass entire planets, carried enough mechs to conquer star systems and had enough officers and staff to fill entire cities.
Battleships were the vanguard of nations, defending it against both internal threats throughout the human domain of space, and those from without. Vast galactic alien empires that constantly yearned at humanities borders, lusting after their territory.
“I can tell you are confused. Let me explain.” Smith easily read the puzzled expression on his face. “First of all, it's a miracle that you're alive. We dug your body out from underneath the Lord's corpse, what little was left anyways. It seemed the core shielded you for the most part, but we’ve had to synthesise replacement arms, legs and parts of your chest, so it might take a while for you to get used to your body again.”
Medical technology had advanced a long way since humanity left their home world of Terra. Cloning tech let doctors regrow lost limbs and body parts with the same genetic code as the host. So long as the brain was intact, the person could be rebuilt. However the costs were usually astronomically high for such a procedure that it almost never happened.
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“What happened with everyone else? Are they okay?”
“For the most part,” Smith nodded. “The pair that was with you, Mr. Gaits and Arming, have quite a few injuries, however they’ll live. Four pilots were not so lucky however, Mr. Bailey, Mr. Jones, Miss. Brown and Mr. Miller. A tragedy for sure.”
Leonard felt conflicted, the number of pilots lost under his command doubling in an instant. It never felt good to lose a comrade whom you fought alongside, doubly so when it was your orders that got them killed. Not that anyone would say that, and not that it was exclusively his orders, however common sense didn't apply when he couldn't help but blame himself.
“I want to see my squad.” Turning to Smith he asked, “I need to see they are alright with my own eyes.”
Smith paused, a fair request but quite troublesome given their current circumstances.
“I'm afraid that won't be possible,” he answered. “Trinity is already several light years away from the Adamin system. You’ve been asleep for almost a week.”
“A week?” Leonard was alarmed, “Why am I aboard Trinity and not with the Iron Knights fleet?”
“You’ve been taken under our custody given your.. Situation. While your body was easy to grow back, the readings of your brain's activity have been alarmingly high, even as we speak.” Agent Smith leaned forward, locking eyes with Leonard. “Tell me Mr. Vallum, what did you see?”
Leonard wanted to back away from the agent’s piercing gaze, however he was stuck bedridden, unable to move. His thoughts raced. Abnormal brain activity? What did he see? Why would Smith think that he had seen anything?
“I.. I'm not sure what you mean?” The agent may have had him healed back to life, however that didn't mean that Leonard trusted him. “What's going on?”
The agent leaned back in his chair, posture softening somewhat.
“Hmm, very well, maybe I should explain somewhat. As a member of the famed House Vallum I'm sure I don't need to explain to you that what I'm about to say should never be repeated.” He understood, Bulwark and Bastions civil equivalent The Internal Security Department, simply known as the ISD, were well known for chasing down traitors and foreign informants. Unless he ran behind the Great Wall of Terra he would never be free from their grasp.
“You see, A Swarm Lord is a very unique and valuable resource, or more specifically the core that grows inside them. They have certain psychedelic properties that even we don't fully understand, however what we do know is the great benefits available if handled correctly.”
“What kinds of benefits?”
“Knowledge. Although the contents vary, subjects often recount seeing images, text or data that greatly assists experts in pioneering advancements in their fields. Biology, mathematics, weapons technology, we have yet to find a field that the core cannot assist. We are only held back by the small amount we can harvest, and certain, undesirable side effects.”
“Side effects?” Leonard asked worried, “What kind of side effects?”
“Cognitive issues mainly, forgetfulness, memory loss, hallucination. In the early days the cores were forced into subjects' heads raw, much like what happened with you. However it often only led the subject to madness, their mind not being able to handle the sudden and overwhelming influx of data.”
Leonard paled, it certainly did feel like his mind was going to pop, to explode outwards under an endless stream of information rushing into his head. However something had tamed the flow, although still mind numbingly painful, it was not to the degree of leading him into madness.
“However through lots of trial and error, we were able to synthesise an agent that let us dilute the core many times over. The usual dosage we give out is 1:100, the highest ratio possible with no discernible side effects. However, even this small amount still allows our nation to stay at the cutting edge of technological advancements, despite our smaller size.”
“What happens if the ratio is higher?” Leonard rubbed his head, the persistent ache still assaulting him.
“Poof,” Smith made a motion with his hands, mimicking an explosion from his head. “One hundred to one seems to be the magic number. And while effects are minimal at 90, 80 even 70 times for a start, issues compound over years leading to the beneficial effects being quickly reversed. The only people alive that have taken a dosage lower than 1:100 are locked away in mental asylums, other than yourself of course.”
“And that brings me back to my previous question.” The agent leaned in again, “what did you see?”
Leonard paused, he couldn't make heads or tails of what coursed through his brain, the only prevailing theory he had was that it was another life much similar to his own. Although he did not yet have enough time to process it, even if he could write down his thoughts to try and figure them out he would never do so under surveillance.
If this agent was telling the truth, what happened to him was an anomaly that would cause him to go insane. However for some unknown reason, deep inside his mind he instinctively knew something like that wouldn't happen.
The presence forced inside his head was not hostile, as far as he could tell at least, and seemed to help him cope with the changes and not force him to go insane like his predecessors.
“I'm not sure,” He posed, deciding to play into his lack of knowledge on the situation. “It didn't make any sense to me, just a bombardment of information I could not decipher.”
“I see,” Smith nodded. “Maybe it will make sense in time, admittedly we have very little insight into the actual process behind a core, so really anything is possible.”
“You still operate on people without knowing what it's actually doing?”
Smith shrugged, “everyone that undergoes the procedure understands the risks, but people are blinded by its promises. Myself included.”
This intrigued Leonard. “You’ve injected the core serum?”
Smith shook his head woefully, “someone like me can only dream, only those at the very top and remarkable experts have the opportunity.”
“How many people have gone through with it?”
“Classified,” Smith said flatly. “I’ve been very forthcoming with you Mr. Vallum, but it may be best if you pull back your curiosity.”
Leonard understood. Ordinarily he would have spent his entire life without learning of this remarkable procedure available only to the nations highest level elites.
“So where does this leave me?”
“While Bulwark would want nothing less than to keep you locked up and pick your brain.” Leo shuddered, he could tell very easily he meant pick his brain in a literal sense. “The elders of your house have protested such an outcome. You will be released into their custody when we reach the Bastion system.”
“What? Why am I heading home? I'm still an active duty Mech Corps pilot.”
“That is true,” Smith handed Leonard a tablet, an official medical leave request form presented. “However you’ve been placed on a two month medical leave, just sign at the bottom whenever you finish reading through. No rush.”
He didn't mind a two week get away after the years of conflict on Adamin 2. Besides, until he figured out this noise problem in his head he didn't think he’d be able to pilot a mech.